SINGLE REVIEW: Single Round-Up 30/05/25-06/07/25

Oswald’s Revenge – Hoodie Up

‘Hoodie Up’ kicks off with a thunderous intro that melts into thick, swampy sludge textures, giving the track an epic, fuzzed-out alt-rock vibe. The guitars roar with weight and melody, cutting through the mid-tempo, bass-heavy haze. Andy Sexton’s gritty, gruelling vocals hold a relaxed power, perfectly matching the song’s raw yet melodic energy. This is stoner rock’s distortion and heft meeting alt-rock’s drive, crafting a sound that’s heavy, hypnotic, and memorably immersive.

One More Weekend – Aunty Meredith

’Aunty Meredith’ isn’t just a song—it’s a spiral. One More Weekend drag you headfirst into a bad trip and don’t let go, pairing nightmarish alt-rock with a surrealist descent into the self. Psychedelia mutates into paranoia, freedom curdles into fear, and what starts as euphoria collapses into something far more sinister. The track’s jagged riffs and distorted vocal layers claw at your ears while the narrative digs at your psyche, unflinchingly honest about the moments where escapism becomes a mirror you can’t smash. It’s theatrical and disorienting but grounded in raw, lived truth—a bold step into darker terrain that still hits with the band’s usual anthemic force.

Austin Lohmann – What's Left of Me

A slow-burning gut-punch from the wreckage of heartbreak, ‘What's Left of Me’ is less a single and more a confessional laid bare. Austin Lohmann channels his lived trauma—heartbreak, addiction, emotional collapse—into a brutal slab of modern nu-metal that aches with every syllable. Josh Paulino’s vocals drag every last word through the dirt, while the slick but shadowy production leaves space for each emotion to rot or ring out. It’s wounded, weary, and dangerously close to breaking point—but that’s exactly what makes it feel so alive.

The Infamists – Lonestar Woes

Greasy, growling, and soaked in Southern disillusionment, ‘Lonestar Woes’ is a whisky-stained stomp through fading pride and false promises. The Infamists, true to their anything-goes ethos, wring snarling riffs and bluesy bite into a track that feels like a backroom confession delivered with a punch to the ribs. It’s equal parts protest and poetry — angry, raw, and gutted with grief for a Texas that maybe never was. A damn fine racket from a band that still gives a damn.

The Captains Syndrome – The Sound

‘The Sound’ is a bruised-knuckle blast of catharsis, fuelled by betrayal and the stubborn will to claw your way back. The Captains Syndrome let the chaos churn — heavy riffs, searing emotion, and a chorus built to blow the doors off. It's raw, direct, and hits like a punch to the gut, but there's clarity in the noise and resolve in the wreckage. Anthemic punk rock with heart and heat.

SilvR – Heavy Rain

‘Heavy Rain’ is a stripped-back heart-spill, carried by raw vocals and the quiet weight of its acoustic core. There's a heavy-lidded sadness to Harry Carey’s delivery — like each word costs something — with subtle shifts in lead guitar and bass adding tension and direction without ever breaking the spell. It's the kind of ballad that doesn’t try to dress its wounds, just lets them bleed in real time. Honest, bare, and quietly gripping.

Matthew Lee and the Standbys – Carousel

‘Carousel’ drifts in slow and heavy, all swirling melancholy and quiet desperation. Matthew Lee and the Standbys leans into the ache with thick, cinematic guitars and hushed, emotionally frayed vocals that build tension until the dam bursts halfway through. There’s a weight to every beat, every pause — a looping sense of want that never quite resolves. It’s a reflective, heartsick ballad that spirals inwards, capturing the pull of longing with real finesse.

Maya’s Radio Orchestra – Garden Variety

‘Garden Variety’ fuses restless disco strings, darting harp runs, and jittery drums into a tightly coiled burst of chamber-pop tension. Maya’s classically rooted instrumentation doesn’t just decorate the track — it drives it, turning an internal spiral into something physically felt. Her vocal delivery is cool but candid, threading through the controlled chaos with the quiet frustration of someone who’s said it all before. There’s real sharpness behind the prettiness, and that push-pull — emotional weight vs ornate finesse — makes it gripping. It’s a genre-blur that bristles with clarity.

Zoo Sioux – VooDoo-Oo

Shuffling in with an uneasy lurch, 'VooDoo-Oo' is all twitch and tremble—arty, distinctive, and proudly off its rocker. The vocals slither between theatric, semi-spoken phrases and slightly off-kilter inflections, while the drums feel like they’ve gone rogue, doing their own wild thing. Guitars jab like they’re improvising threats, and a fascinating little twiddly bit squirms through the murk. It’s ad libbed, erratic, a touch grotesque—and weirdly gripping for it.

Pilot Light – I'll Show You Pain

‘I’ll Show You Pain’ is indie rock with grit in its teeth—melodic, driven, and just frayed enough at the edges to sting. Pilot Light pair infectious guitar lines with a tight, propulsive groove, but it’s the emotion in the vocal delivery that really lands the punch—open-wounded without sounding overcooked. There's a tension bubbling under the surface, like they’re holding back a scream while nailing a hook, and that balance of polish and pressure keeps things compelling. Heartbreak and fury turned into fuel, delivered with purpose and plenty of bite.